Of Plies and Tolkien Kisses
by Glum n Dumb Skittery
Summary: (Slash, smut, some profanity.) Stacy's Birthday fic! Includes the following: HappyDaddies!Snittery, Teletubbies, Mr. Mom and ballet lessons. Yay.


**A/N:** OMG. Non-Angst!Snittery? Surely this cannot be. Oh, but, only for you, Stacy, darling. Happy birthday! 18? AGH LEGAL.For today, the boys belong to Thumbsucker Snitch/Stacy, as does Bare: A Pop Opera. (Okay, and maybe Disney gets a teensy bit of ownership, just to be fair…) And Michael Arden. I give her permission to kidnap and molest him. **No disclaimer. **I defy FFN.

**Include the following:**  
-HappyDaddies!Snittery  
-Teletubbies  
-Playing "Mr. Mom"  
-Ballet lessons/T-ball practice

**Note:** This is placed in the same AU as Christmas Queries. But you do not need to read to comprehend. Just know the two, (Snitch and Skittery), are, duh, together. And they like to bicker. They're so cute, ohmigosh.

_"Promise… Webster's defines promise as 'a declaration that something will or will not be done.'" _-Promise; Bare: A Pop Opera

**Plié s and Tolkien Kisses**

"DAAAAAAAAADDY!"

A tall, well-toned brunette slid into sight, hands slamming on to the doorway jam to stop from skidding past the opening, his socks burning with friction as he halted. Panting, feeling very much like John Travolta as a pair of pants were thrown down at him from the second-floor banister, landing on his head; he grinned and pulled on the trousers. "What is it, baby?"

Five-year old Terrence Tatum-Riccio pouted. Danny, the pants-less brunette, cringed. Ouch. The kid had so inherited the totally irresistible pout, of which there was no defense yet discovered, from him, adopted or not. He hadn't thought it'd ever be used on him — well, duh — and nearly melted; this was almost painful. "Cruel and unusual punishment," had been Isaac's specific words to describe "Teh Pout," as it had been dubbed in their high school days.

Until Terrence had come into their lives, (and, for the record, the name Terrence was definitely not Daniel "Snitch" Riccio's fault, the blame was entirely on Skittery's mother, thank you very much!), Danny had never quite been subjected to anything quite so mind-melting.

Err, that is, anything that didn't involve one Isaac "Skittery" Tatum, or that blessed body and those skilled lips and fingers of his. But. Anyway.

"WE'RE GUNNA BE LATE."

"…Why're you talking so loud, Ter? Oh. Never mind." _Stupid question!_ "Turn the volume down, sweetie."

"Po!"

"Yes: Po, La-La, Tinky-Winky and Dipsy. But you can see them just as well from six feet away. Get your nose off the screen, Terry," Isaac chastised gently, adjusting his watch strap as he entered the living room.

"I like Po."

"I know, baby, but the red from his suit is going to make you go blind if you sit that close."

Danny grinned at Isaac's almost automatic response. It seemed the banter had carried over _Gilmore Girls_-style between both he and his soul mate and he and his son. Life was good.

He interjected with a, "Stop being such a you-know-what." _You're being such a hard-ass._

"I am not. He's going to go cross-eyed or crazy. Teletubbies do that." _So not a hard-ass._

"Whatever." _Uh, yeah. You are.  
_  
"Fine." _Am not._

"I win." _You are; I win._

"We're going to be late."_ Shut up_.

That ended the spoken and silent banter simultaneously, as it got Terrence's attention. "We're gunna be late!"

Danny blinked, very sure he was forgetting something at this moment. Something _really_ important. Seeing as he didn't know what exactly they were going to be late _for_. Isaac apparently caught the confusion in his eyes because he frowned, even as Terrence wreaked sugar-cereal-hyped havoc in the background. And then Danny caught the string of words that left his son's borderline-ADHD mouth:

"BALLET LESSONS! WE'RE GUNNA BE LATE FOR BALLET!"

Or something thereof. Either way, Danny's jaw dropped.

Isaac groaned. "You forgot."

The shock ebbed into bristling intendancy. "I did _not_. My brain just didn't… process it all the way, way back — when exactly did you tell me you signed our son up for ballet lessons?"

"First of all, I signed our son up for ballet lesson because our son _asked_ to be signed up for said ballet lessons. And I told you well over two weeks ago."

"You did not."

"I did."

A pause. "You suck."

Isaac smirked. They couldn't go a day without this sort of teasing display of affection. Even if, to outsiders, it appeared as though they were constantly looking for reasons to argue and be at each other's throats. He had to smother his laughter. "You've never complained before."

Danny got it after a moment. "…go away."

"Jerk."

"Dork."

"Band geek."

"…that's not fair. You can't bring up the past, namely the high school era! That's just low!"

"I win — Terry, please back away from the screen. Thank you."

Danny scooped up their child from in front of the television, eliciting giggles from the boy. His thick black hair and slanted Asian eyes were quick giveaways as to his origins, as in, far from the sperm of either Danny or Isaac.

They wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Everyone buckled up?"

Terry wiggled enthusiastically in his car seat, emitting a polite, "Yes, sir!" that probably came from MASH, which, for some reason or other, he had become addicted to watching. (Though only Danny knew it was all his dad's fault when he had come over last Thanksgiving and watched the marathon with four-year old Terrence in awe in his lap.)

Isaac grinned at the boy through the rearview mirror and they pulled out of the driveway, Danny talking completely random nonsense with his son, who was all too happy to play along.

"And if you spell 'racecar' backward it's still 'racecar'! Is that not amazing?"

Terrence squealed with delight; Isaac rolled his eyes, smiling anyway. Terrence's fingers curled around the tips of his outstretched feet, clad in generic white with heels that blinked with red and blue lights every time he took a step. "Wha's Po backward?"

His father, the tall brunette with the easy smile, laughed, completely surprised that he hadn't foreseen this. "Op!" he answered merrily.

The shorter man, with unruly muddy-brown hair snorted. "What's Tinky-Winky?"

"…Uhh…"

Their son's eyes sealed shut tightly as he giggled at the silliness of it all.

"Yik-neew Yik-nit?"

Sparing his husband, Isaac turned on the radio, not even cringing as the speakers loudly blared, "RADIO DISNEY - WE'RE ALL EAAARS!" Terry was silent in the backseat, having calmed down. He was always one for car rides, no matter how long, no matter the destination.

When they arrived at the local YMCA, not ten minutes later, the radio softly playing the Anne Hathaway's remake of Queen's "Someone to Love", much to Danny's utter devastation, Terrence snapped out of his daze. "Ooh, Daddy, c'mon! Ballet!"

Both fathers chuckled, unbuckling and getting out of the car to rescue their son from the unfair clutches of his safety seat, letting him bolt ahead — but not too far — of them, pouncing up the steps to the building eagerly.

"Why is it, do you think, he wants to take ballet so badly?" Isaac asked, fingers brushing Danny's as they walked up the stairs, a little bemused at the fact that Terrence had just plastered his entire body to the glass door in his grief at being unable to open the door himself.

Danny glanced at Isaac, both brows raised, lips pursed and slightly off-center. "Do you have to ask my opinion?"

"Did we gay-ify our son?"

"…I didn't say that. There _are_ straight dancers in the world, just like there are straight actors."

"Still."

"Well, his class _did_ go to that Nutcracker production last December."

"…true. So. Which one of us signed the permission form for that?"

"Don't be a jerk."

Danny smirked. "That's what I thought." Opening the door, Isaac pseudo-glared at him as he walked in, Terry catching his hand and attempting to pull him ahead, trying to get his slow-walking father to move much, much faster.

As instructed by the lady at the Y's front desk, they entered the hall that was opposite the door leading to the pool and found a room with a large mirror, parallel to which was a long bar. The wooden floor practically glistened; all three males stared.

Danny's brow furrowed and he pushed the small of Isaac's back, making the shorter man stumble forward, Terrence following. "I'm not going in there," he whispered.

Isaac arched a brow. "Scared?" he teased; his only response was a scowl. The door closed behind him and he led Terrence towards the small group of girls, with the several odd number of boys, in the corner of the room, a thin blonde with a pinched face greeting him with a curt nod and a deep curtsy. His lover was so going to pay for this.

"Hello, I am Madame Gloria, are you going to be joining our class today?"

The gaunt brunette stared. "Err."

"Yup!" Saved by the son.

Madame Gloria smiled thinly, her lips curving, exposing no pearly-whites at all. Isaac blanched, cursing Danny inwardly the entire time. His grip on Terrence's hand tightened. No way was he handing his son over to this scary lady.

"Bye, Daddy! I love you! Don't forget to pick me up!"

Guh! The skinny little boy had wriggled out of his grasp, running over to join the three other boys in the class, all about his own age, launching into loud introductions and sticky, grimy high-fives. Isaac hung his head low, utterly ashamed of himself.

"Class will let out at noon," Madame Gloria instructed before turning to address her class.

Isaac thanked her in a mumble before dejectedly slumping out of the eerily clean room and out the way he'd came. Danny caught him as he stumbled back out.

"What's wrong?"

"I gave my child over to a femme fatale."

"…Isaac, it's only for two hours." The shorter man waited for it. "And you _did_ sign him up for it, after all."

There we go. Clinging to Danny as they walked back out, a protective arm wrapped around Isaac's shoulder, he sighed. "I know. I think I have Empty Nest Syndrome."

Danny snorted. "I fear for the day Terrence goes off to college." He placed a chaste kiss on the top of his lover's head as they walked through empty hallways. "Don't worry, you've always got me."

And that made Isaac feel a little better.

In any case, they soon found themselves at the local mall, just to kill the two hours instead of going home and facing the rather cluttered, disorganized state of their home. Browsing through Radio Shack, Isaac's must-have stop, Danny browed lazily as his other half tinkered around with the various models of digital cameras and extension cords. Inevitably, he found himself in front of the television showcases.

Danny watched as Jack Butler had a breakdown on the screen. "I yelled at Kenny for coloring outside the lines! Megan and I are starting to watch the same TV shows, and I'm liking them! I'm losing it!"

_Mr. Mom_, not a movie you saw too often anymore, much less recalled. The former-thumb sucker rolled his eyes. Please, he thought. Isaac worked from home, except when he had to visit his publisher's, and he was perfectly sane. Why he, himself, colored outside the lines! And he liked it! Granted, he did have a tendency to get a little _too_ involved in the latest Lizzie McGuire episodes. But, it was bound to happen anyway, wasn't it?

God, he couldn't remember when they'd last watched an R-rated movie. Danny sighed. He loved Terrence, but he'd loved Isaac first. He kind of missed having the man all to himself. And maybe the profanity spoken aloud anytime, anywhere.

_Oh shit_, he found himself frantically thinking. _How could I think something like that? What kind of stupid fuck am I? I love Terrence just as much as Isaac, what am I saying? …Fuck! I'm not going to burst into tears in a Radio Shack. I'm not going to burst into tears in a Radio Shack… what _am _I? PMS-ing? Jesus!_

"Hey, you ready to go?"

Danny whirled around, forcing a smile at the hand resting heavily on his shoulder and the gentle look in Isaac's eyes. "Yeah," he managed hoarsely. "Let's go."

But his lover was neither stupid nor unobservant. "Are you okay?"

He coughed. "Fine. I'm fine. Hey, there's a store I want to take you to, c'mon." That said, he slipped his hand into Isaac's, their fingers overlapping each other in an obscure pattern of pale ivory tightly, until neither owner was discernable from the other.

The thought of that alone calmed him, allowing him to smile as they walked into Kay's Jewelry Store. Isaac's face froze in surprise at the sight of the employee behind the counter. "Davey! David Jacobs, ohmigod!"

"Hey, I was wondering when I'd be seeing you! Danny always drops in, but you never do."

"Is that so?" Isaac slowly turned a dangerous gaze Danny's way, causing the taller man to cower just slightly, neck sinking as his shoulders rose. He chuckled nervously.

"Didn't want to give the game away?" he attempted in his defense.

David laughed. "God forbid your husband ever find out where you purchased his engagement and marriage ring, huh?"

At those words did Isaac's jaw drop. "You fiend!" he flung at Danny.

It was Danny's turn to laugh out loud, dodging the swing of Isaac's greatly misrouted fist with ease. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! It was so cool doing those kinds of things in secret!" He caught Isaac's wrist mid-air. "Besides, I thought you liked your rings…"

"…" Just about summed up Issac's complete lack of a comeback for that statement. David watched in obvious amusement as the smaller man blushed fiercely, and couldn't deny his envy. Isaac's captured hand was sweetly pressed to his lover's face, covered over complete by said lover's much larger hand, a ring identical to his own ever-present on his ring finger, a white-gold band with a silver line running through. Isaac had had it special made for their marriage ceremony, to match the silver ring with the gold line Danny had given him.

He sighed.

"I didn't say that. I do."

Danny's laugh was felt through the vibrations that buzzed through his fingers, down into Isaac's veins, causing him to shiver. They were dangerously close.

"Ahem."

Both men turned to see a very fiercely blushing David Jacobs, discreetly pointing to the several odd people who were watching the very homosexual PDA with both interest and shock.

Danny watched as Isaac turned a particularly interesting shade of red. "I thought we already exchanged 'I do's'," he teased in no more than a whisper. Turning to David, he grinned widely. "We'll just go and stop traumatizing your potential customers. Just dropped in to say hi. So: hi! Bye, Davey, thanks again and forever!"

The jeweler waved them off with a knowing smile on his face, shoulders shaking with unvoiced laughter as Isaac promised to keep in touch and Danny used that as innuendo in turn, voicing his opinion on just what he would do if his lover were ever unfaithful and/or touched another man.

Two teenage girls in the corner tittered mercilessly, holding each other up, one of the girl's glasses going askew on her face, the other reaching up to fix it. They smiled at each other widely, the amusement over the slashiness gone, replaced instead with dreamy, puppy love affection. David grinned. Oh, the perks of working in a jewelry store.

Meanwhile, Danny and Isaac had stopped arguing over abusive and adulterous lovers to duck together into the nearest bookstore, which just so happened to be an antique bookshop.

"Good," breathed Isaac. "I really don't want to see anything I printed on the shelves. Bah."

"Oh, modest," Danny teased back. "You write well; you know, I know it, the world knows it. So stop."

As they forged deeper into the store, not passing a single person, becoming aware that they were the only present customers, or people even in the front part, as soft music came from the background along with the wheezing of a the sleeping old manager, Danny felt his pulse quicken. It was a rare occasion they were ever alone together with Terrence anymore. Except maybe at night, which didn't count because they were usually too tired to do anything more than enjoy each other's exhausted, tired, comfortable company.

So it occurred that right there, between the dusty tomes of Shakespeare and Tolkien, that Danny found himself being pushed up against the sturdy shelves, the faint scent of yellowing pages and old paper invading his nostrils as Isaac roughly pressed his lips to Danny.

It would appear their thoughts were somewhat linked.

Isaac's hands clutched at Danny's biceps before dropping slightly, cradling his lover's hips, a long finger slipping through a single belt loop. The Righteous Brother's "Unchained Melody" coming softly from the backroom made both boys chuckle softly, very aware of exactly how movie-esque the moment felt. "Ghost" was, after all, a classic.

Danny thoroughly enjoyed playing the submissive boyfriend, nipping at Isaac's bottom lip, not caring what anyone would think when Terry's father showed up to pick his boy up from ballet looking thoroughly snogged-out. He pulled his mate closer, their hips colliding as Isaac's knees finally gave in. Both sighed contentedly. They needed this moment, now more than ever.

So they continued to let their lips slide over and against each other, sweet and almost hesitant, like their first kiss all over again. Only, this time, it was all-knowing and comfortable, like finding one's niche in the world; two cosmic forces crashing together silently, forming a galaxy of star-crossed lovers that simply belonged.

They only disentangled themselves from each other, completely unaware that any books had fallen off the shelves during the duration of their make-out session until Isaac tripped over a leather-bound edition of _The Hobbit_, when his wrist-watch went off.

"We gotta go pick up Terry," he whispered, lips still connected, for the most part, with Danny's neck. The taller male shivered, and could only nod as he blinked himself out of his drowsy, infatuated state of mind.

When he uttered, "Right," it came out a lot huskier than he'd expected and he caught sight of Isaac's prominent blush. And maybe the bulge in the front of his pants that was identical to his own helped the silly grin that found its way onto his face.

"However shall you be explaining that to that… what was her name again?"

"Madame _Gloria_," Isaac murmured darkly, tugging at his shirt to try to cover it up, to no avail. "_Shit_."

Upon picking up Terrence, Danny and his over-sized shirt getting sent in, sparing Isaac from further embarrassment, the little boy could not contain his happiness. He would not stop plié -ing all the way to the car.

"He's going to plié himself to death," Danny whispered as they started up the car. "We are affecting him growing up a straight man."

"Did we want him to grow up a straight man?" whispered Isaac, back, backing out of the stall and heading onto the main road.

"I don't know," Danny admitted softly. "But he's going to blame us if he does grow up gay," he hissed.

"Quit being such a girl."

Both exchanged faces, tongues sticking out and eyes crossed. Which may not have been a very smart idea, considering they were at a stoplight and the light had just turned green.

"DADDY, GREEN LIGHT!"

"Huh? Oh! Thank you, sweetie."

Danny turned his head to look to the backseat. "You hungry, Ter?"

"Yes, sir!"

Isaac grinned. "Where do you boys feel like eating for lunch?" He realized just how stupid a question this was as soon as they were all seated in a booth at Chuck E. Cheese's, men clad in giant animal costumes bringing them their pepperoni pizza and soft drinks.

Terrence was off in the ball pit, playing with some of the other kids, diving in and out of the rainbow flood of multi-colored dots.

"He's gay. Look, he loves balls."

Danny nearly choked on his soft drink. "I thought we weren't going to discuss this. He's five, babe."

They both chuckled at their own perverseness. They watched Terrence scamper back, dragging them away to get tokens to play games. Danny watched as Isaac attempted teaching the poor boy how to play Dance Dance Revolution, only to leave the gaunt brunette in despair at finding out his son's legs were still too short. Isaac got his own laughs at Danny and Terrence both trying to whack crocodile heads at warp-speed at the Whack-A-Mole-like game. Terrence's delighted squeals and giggles intermixed perfectly with the deep, resonating laughter of his daddies.

An hour later, Isaac's head resting on his shoulder and Terrence asleep and clinging to him, pizza cold on their booth's table and the ice in their amber glasses melted, Danny made a remarkably observant statement: "Time to go home."

That night, after a profoundly normal dinner, and Terrence's bath — it was Danny's turn, which meant it was Isaac's turn to clean up as Danny put their son to bed, resulting in quite the water war, the immature brute — Danny pulled his slant-eyed, Asian baby into his lap, opening to the first page of his Disney's Read-Along: Mulan book.

"The Huns had invaded China…"

Isaac quietly exited the bathroom, sleeves still rolled to his elbows from cleaning up after his partner's oh-so clever impromptu Battleship versus Rubber Ducky death match. (Rubber Ducky had won indefinitely, thanks to Terrence's above-average war tactics in severely bashing Battleship to its watery grave. And they doubted his sexuality, pfft.) Leaning against the doorway to the nursery, Terrence's bed with its safety rail to one said, the wall on the other, dinosaur-print sheets rumpled, he watched the scene with a peaceful smile.

"Mulan was late to see the matchmaker, and Fa Li wrung her hands worriedly. 'Where could she be?' she wondered."

Terrence dropped off somewhere after Mulan was revealed as a woman on the snowy mountaintop, already out of his father's lap and snuggled beneath his Batman blanket. But Danny continued. He loved Mulan as much as his son did, though he'd never admit it. He continued straight on till the end, speaking in soft, sweet tones, unaware he had another audience, one that was still awake.

"Grandmother Fa cheered loudly, and the cherry blossoms continued to fall gracefully. Mulan smiled at Shang. 'Would you like to stay for dinner?' Shang nodded. 'Dinner would be great.'" Here Danny ad-libbed, "And they lived Happily Ever After. The End."

Closing the book and turning on the night-light, Danny quietly slid off the bed, tucking the blanket tightly around his son. Isaac stepped forward, startling Danny for a second, before they both smiled at each other, hands sliding together easily, palms molding to fit one another's, as they closed the door behind them.

They walked down the hall towards their room without speaking, closing the door with a quiet _click_, simultaneously releasing entwined fingers. Danny groaned, "Man, I gotta take a shower. I think I got dust down my shirt from that bookstore."

Isaac grinned wickedly, though it was shielded from Danny's view as he tugged off his shoes and started to change, having taken a shower earlier, after coming home from the insanity that was Chuck E. Cheese.

A half an hour later, Danny crawled into bed with the nearly asleep Isaac. His hair was only slightly damp after being vigorously towel-dried, and his limbs were cool as they slid around his lover, their bodies limp from the day's trials and entirely sated not that they were both together, alone, once again.

It wasn't Terrence's fault, Danny decided. It never had been, and he'd never said it was. He merely brought excitement, exhaustion, and more immaturity into their lives. Which sometimes they needed. And sometimes they didn't. For the most part, the unneeded was the immaturity. Danny had once brought more than enough of that, though, not to say Isaac didn't pull his share of "your-mom!" jokes.

But, when it came down to it, _really_, it was always about Danny and Isaac anyway. Danny and Isaac. Isaac and Danny. They _fit_. Just as their two ring-clad hands would press together beneath the sheets, fumbling to fit around each other, warm and dry and perfect once their fingers clasped. Just as the Teletubbies were annoying, and Mr. Mom was more than a movie, but, rather, a way of life, as Danny so enjoyed teasing Isaac every morning as he left to go work at the caterer's downtown, (only part-time, though, while he worked on getting his teaching license).

However, he concluded, it was also about here and now. Terrence sleeping soundly in his room, visions of Chinese fireworks and lion dances in his head, and Isaac breathing evenly beside him, taut arms tight around him as he slept, head buried in the crook where neck met shoulder. It was here and now, and this was theirs. Theirs alone to keep and hold and be entirely selfish about.

Just as it was supposed to be.

And they lived Happily Ever After. The End.

_"You, my companion. You, my best friend. You, my beginning, true till the end. You, my companion. You, in my heart. You, with me always, never to part." -_Wedding Bells; Bare: A Pop Opera

(If anyone caught the Bare reference in beginning of this story, I will be very, very, very happy. Guh!)

**A/N:** Stacy and I are soul mates. Thus, I hope she has enjoyed this fic very, very much. Happy Birthday once again/hearts Stacy


End file.
